


Anders and the Damp Elf

by Rhube



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blood, Comfort, Injury, M/M, Pre-Relationship, damp elf, pre-fenders - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 13:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18411944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhube/pseuds/Rhube
Summary: Hawke brings Fenris to Anders' clinic badly hurt and covered in blood. Anders has to wash the elf to check he's healed all his wounds...Done as a fill for a kinkmeme prompt requesting  bathing or washing.





	Anders and the Damp Elf

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: LI helps injured Fenris bath (prefer if LI isnt Hawke, would love Anders or Carver) https://dragonage-kink.dreamwidth.org/91059.html?thread=366080947#cmt366080947

Fenris had lost a lot of blood. A lot. Anders didn't know what Hawke had got him into, but it had made a mess of him.  
  
There had been lacerations up and down his body, and not a little internal bleeding as well.  
  
Hawke had been wringing her hands with worry and Varric had barely been better. They were a distraction, and after Anders had closed the worst of Fenris's wounds he'd jerked his head at Isabela.  
  
"Take them away, can't you? He'll be fine, but they're _not_ helping!"  
  
The pirate had snaked an arm around her lover's waist and drawn them away.  
  
Once alone, Anders spent a bit more time going over Fenris's injuries. His bruised and battered insides were the most immediate problem. He would need to call on the help of a spirit to manage the more subtle workings healing that would require.  
  
"Bet you'd be whining about this if you were awake," Anders said. While Fenris usually bore basic healing magic tolerably well, he'd been known to make dark mutterings about the fact that Anders called on spirits for more sophisticated work.  
  
_Are you under the impression I can get even more possessed?_ Anders had asked once, after a particularly taxing battle.  
  
_I cannot imagine that it can make the situation better_ , Fenris had replied, his dry voice walking that fine line between humour and insult that Anders could never seem to figure out.  
  
"Blast you!" Anders muttered as he finished the working, collapsing on the floor next to the cot where Fenris lay. He longed to retreat to his own bed and sleep, but the job wasn't done yet.  
  
Fenris was caked in his own blood, and drained as he was, Anders couldn't be sure he'd found and healed all the man's wounds. Healing his insides put him out of immediate danger, but it was best to be sure.  
  
With a groan, Anders hauled himself to his feet and dragged his tin bath out of its hiding place over to the pump. He wasn't going to do this with buckets. There was no one else in the clinic. It wouldn't harm Fenris to sit with the pump over his feet.  
  
Once the tub was half full, Anders drew on the dregs of his mana to heat it, then went back for the elf.  
  
No hope Fenris would wake and get himself into the bath. Anders had already cut off his leggings to examine the deep wounds that had sunk into his legs, but the elf's armour was another matter.  
  
Sitting on the floor beside the unconscious elf, Anders tiredly undid each of the many buckles Fenris had festooned himself with, slowly revealing his bloodied undershirt.  
  
That had to come off, too.  
  
"Sorry, Fenris," he muttered, achieving the job of removing the shirt in an ungainly and inelegant manner. Fenris was left in nothing but his smalls, which thankfully seemed unsmeared by blood. "You _do_ wear them, then," Anders remarked to the sleeping elf. "Isabela will be disappointed."  
  
Taking Fenris in his arms, he staggered over to the tub. The elf was slender, but tightly packed with muscle and tall for an elf. And Anders was tired. So tired. He longed to just drop the man in without ceremony, but even if Anders had caught all his wounds, he was still a patient, and still in a sorry state.  
  
He lay Fenris as gently as he could in the tub. It was small, so Fenris was left sitting up and his legs a little bent, but that was for the best. Anders didn't want him slipping under the water and drowning, after all.  
  
The moment the man was in, the blood that covered him began to make red swirls in the water. Anders took a cloth and began wiping along Fenris's skin.  
  
He'd never had the chance to look at Fenris so close-to. Healing was accepted grudgingly and at a distance, if at all. Fine white hairs would have made a delicate fluff against the skin of his legs, had not most of them been stained pink and brown by the blood. Anders gently washed them, slowly revealing more of the normal tan colour of Fenris's calves.  
  
They were well-shaped calves - it was impossible to ignore that as Anders rubbed them up and down, sluicing away the red stain until they were clean.  
  
The water was brown now. Fenris would likely need another bath after this one, but Anders would rub off as much of the caked blood as he could in this first try.  
  
Moving up to Fenris's thighs was... well. Well. They were very firm, weren't they? Hardly surprising. What with all the... fighting, Fenris did.  
  
Anders tried not to think about how long it had been since he'd had the pleasure of running his hands along a thigh of solid muscle like this. He didn't need Justice's disapproval to remind him that Fenris was his patient, and that he didn't like Anders very much anyway.  
  
As his hand ran up the inside of Fenris's left thigh, the elf suddenly jerked and cried out, his eyes fluttering for a moment.  
  
Anders started, then put his hands back down into the water. Fenris stirred again as he found it - a cut, much smaller than the ones he'd found earlier, but there. Anders reach into his coat and pulled out a lyrium vial, swallowed the contents, and muttered a brief healing spell. When he felt Fenris's thigh again, the wound was closed.  
  
It was as Anders was running careful fingers further up towards Fenris's groin, that the man awoke.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice barely more than a croak.  
  
Anders' face flushed with heat as though he'd been caught copping a feel. He looked up into green, but bloodshot eyes and tried to find a confident and professional tone.  
  
"I'm cleaning you and checking you for any wounds I've missed," he said. "You've lost a lot of blood and you can't afford to lose much more."  
  
Fenris must have really been in a bad way, as after a moment, he simply nodded and closed his eyes again.  
  
Anders proceeded cautiously, but no less thoroughly, schooling his features to stillness as he brought his cloth up to wipe over Fenris's well-muscled chest.  
  
Maker, the man was stacked. Anders didn't think he'd ever been that fit, even at the height of his time with the Wardens.  
  
Fenris stirred again as his fingers brushed over the lines of lyrium that cut elegant paths across the man's abdominal muscles.  
  
"Sorry," Anders said quietly. "Does that hurt?"  
  
"Mmm," Fenris made a noise of complaint. "More - more like discomfort," he said, his voice still rough and raw. "Sense - sensitive." He hadn't even opened his eyes.  
  
"I'll get you something to drink," Anders said. "You must be parched."  
  
Fenris made a grunt, but Anders wasn't sure if it was agreement or just a noise.  
  
When he returned with the water he supported Fenris's head with one hand and with the other pressed the cup to his lips. "Drink," he said.  
  
Fenris made another grunt, but after a moment he obeyed.  
  
Anders let him drink half a cup before he went back to his washing.  
  
Fenris allowed Anders to raise and wipe his arms - the strong muscles that lifted his two-handed sword were limp in his hands.  
  
Blood had got caught in his hair, too.  
  
"Can you sit up?" Anders asked.  
  
Fenris opened his eyes. "Must I?" he asked, just a little petulance showing through the elf's usual stoic demeanor.  
  
"Yes," Anders said, smiling. "You must. Unless you want me to miss somewhere they hit you over the head."  
  
Another groan - louder this time. "Fine," Fenris said, and heaved himself into a sitting position.  
  
Anders soaked the wash cloth in the tub and squeezed the water out over the red, matted knots on Fenris's head. He repeated this two or three times before he began teasing away at the softening mats.  
  
"Mage, this water is disgusting," Fenris said.  
  
"Yes, well," Anders replied. "That's your fault for bleeding in it. We'll have to give you another bath once I'm sure you're not wounded anywhere else."  
  
The noise Fenris made was more than slightly petulant. "No..." he complained.  
  
"Yes," Anders said, allowing himself a smile. Complaining was a good sign. "Although maybe we can dry you off and let you sleep a bit first."  
  
"Mmm," Fenris nodded tiredly under Anders' hands.  
  
There was no hidden injury under the red that had stained Fenris's hair pinky-brown in strange blotches. Whatever had been there before had clearly been caught earlier.  
  
Anders went on to clean off Fenris's back, but there was nothing there, either.  
  
"You're done," he declared. "Can you stand?" he asked, offering his hand.  
  
Fenris nodded, and leant heavily on Anders as he tried to get to his feet, but Anders could feel the tremble in his muscles, and he brought his other arm up to catch him just before the elf could fall.  
  
"It's OK, I have you," he said, as Fenris leant heavily against him. "You're OK."  
  
Fenris was breathing hard against his shoulder, and didn't even seem to have the energy to protest.  
  
With a groan for his own tiredness, Anders pulled Fenris to a swaying standing position, but realised he was never going to be able to walk to a bed.  
  
With whatever strength he had left, Anders lifted Fenris into his arms again, and took him over to the closest bed.  
  
He was dripping brown and pink water and beginning to shiver. More stains to add to those that already discoloured the old canvas. Anders rushed to fetch a couple of towels and wrapped them about the elf, before covering him with a blanket.  
  
That would have to do. Anders had nothing left himself to give, and Fenris appeared to already be asleep.  
  
Taking a blanket for himself, Anders lay down in the next cot along, and followed Fenris soon after into oblivion.


End file.
